Colors and Shapes
by MochiUs
Summary: A story told through soul marks.


"Give it back!" A young Izuku hopped as high as he could, his short, stubby arms attempting to grab the notebook out of his reach. "Give it back! It's mine!"

Tears welled in his eyes, the desperation in his voice clear as the crude cackling of the older kids pushing him away. The blistering, summer heat was cruel to the green-haired kid as he fell backwards and scraped his palms against the harsh asphalt. His whimpers grew louder as his bullies skimmed through the contents of his notes.

"Wow," the leader of the group scoffed, "This quirkless nobody actually believes he can be a hero."

The rest laughed harder, as if it was the greatest joke he ever said.

"What's worse," the boy paused on a page full of illustrations and scrawled bullet points, "He's even researching about everybody's soul marks in his class."

"What a loser," one drawled.

"Pathetic," another crowed.

"Give it back," Izuku shakily picked himself back up.

He cried hot, ugly tears as he felt humiliated and wiped the running snot from his nose. He clenched his fists and ran.

"Give it back!"

He pounded his weak, trembling fists into their stronger, bigger frames, but what else could he do? He was a quirkless child with shattered dreams and a big heart.

As expected, they shoved him away as if he was an insignificant ant, tossed him to the ground as if he was litter that didn't deserve to be picked up. Izuku stifled his cries, lessening them to pitiful sniffles. He wouldn't give them this. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction that they overpowered him so easily.

"Such a weakling," they taunted.

"Yeah," one boy said, "No wonder he doesn't have a soul mark. How can anybody love such a useless, quirkless crybaby?"

Before one of his friends could answer, an explosion rung in their ears. That same boy yelped out in pain as his sleeve ended up with a singed hole.

"There you are, Deku!"

A young boy with blonde, spiky hair appeared out of nowhere, sporting a black shirt with a skull and shorts. Remnants of his quirk smoked from his hands.

Bakugou Katsuki took a quick glance at the situation. "What are you doing with these nobodies?"

"That was my new shirt!"

"Oh, my bad," Katsuki said unapologetically. He looked bored. He was talking to Deku, not this extra. "It was an ugly shirt anyway. Now you can buy a new one."

He wasn't a fashion designer like his father, but he had a keen eye to style. Not his fault the kid was too pigheaded to understand that. Instead, he made the mistake of making a mad dash to pummel him, and Katsuki was already prepared. He saw the attack a mile away, steadied his stance, and let out a big blast, big enough to blow his body away.

The boy screamed as he rolled in the dirt, coming out as the loser with Katsuki as the victor. Katsuki pounded his fist against his palm, intimidating the kids from executing another strike. Frightened by such a powerful quirk, they scampered away, along with the kid who failed to leave a scratch on Katsuki's fair head.

"Meatheads," he grumbled and walked over to Izuku, who trembled as he picked himself up like a baby lamb.

The green-haired child patted away the dust on his shorts as Kasuki's rubbed away some residue on his freckled cheeks.

"There," he spat some spit and wiped away the remaining dots on his skin.

Izuku cried out in disgust, "Gross, Kacchan!"

Yet, he laughed as he was being cleaned because everything was alright when Katsuki was here. Just like All Might. He made everybody smile.

Then he saw the ripped, discarded pages of his notebook on the ground, scattered around like fallen leaves. His mood dimmed as he gently collected them silently, the harsh words ringing in his ears.

_No wonder he doesn't have a soul mark. How can anybody love such a useless, quirkless crybaby?_

"What's the matter with you, Deku?" Katsuki asked him.

He was also squatting like Izuku, helping him pick up the pieces as well. Izuku's ears burned. He knew Katsuki was disappointed with him, let down by the crushing news of his quirklessness. They were supposed to be partners, a duo, but Izuku got the short end of the stick. What if he got the short end of the stick once again?

"Kacchan," he said with a wobbly voice.

"Yeah?"

"I don't have a quirk…"

Izuku bit his lower lip, fumbling over his words. It was weird, to see Katsuki like this, providing him his full attention. He was so lucky to have an amazing friend.

Izuku allowed the pin to drop.

"What if I don't get a soul mark, too?"

Soul marks. They were a fickle phenomenon, a byproduct of the emergence of quirks. Even up to this day, ongoing research was conducted to understand the significance of these random, appearing marks, but alas, they only touched upon the tip of the iceberg. Honestly, their name was a bit misleading, but the public loved to romanticize and glorify them, calling them soul marks even though their purpose was by no means related to pointing out the direction of their soulmate.

To be more accurate, soul marks were a manifestation of a person's feelings, regardless of whether or not they were romantic, platonic, or anything otherwise. Depending on how the person viewed the object of their affections, they were like tattoos ingrained into their skin, changing and evolving in magnitude and detail.

For instance, Katsuki's father was depicted as a needle at his Adam's apple sewing his skin together with a chain stitch. It went along his shoulder until it reached down his axillary line. Though Katsuki was too young to understand the complexities of sewing or the history his parents shared, the message would be quite clear once he grew older.

To Mitsuki, he was stitched into her life, unable to remove them out even if he wished for it. He was the seams that held her together, and he was hers for life.

Izuku was too young to ponder and worry over soul marks. Heck, Katsuki doesn't have one either, and he wasn't complaining. It would be ridiculous for a couple four-year-old children to bear a soul mark, but there were moments when children were irrational. In this case, Izuku was scared of being an unlovable human being, and Katsuki was left to rectify that fear. After all, the nerd had reached his quota of wailing for the day. He shouldn't overuse those tear ducts.

"Stop crying, Deku. Everybody gets a soul mark. You just have to wait."

"But what if I'm the only one who doesn't?" Izuku countered, fresh tears making their way to the corners of his eyes, giving him the illusion that his eyelashes were longer than they seem.

Katsuki pouted. At this rate, they would be running in circles, with Katsuki comforting his childhood friend that that notion was stupid, but Izuku would ignore his logic. Fortunately, Izuku brought his small yellow bag because he was an overprepared nerd with an All Might pencil bag full of writing utensils. He unzipped it and dug around until he found what he was looking for. With a black pen in hand, he uncapped it, grabbed Izuku's forearm, and drew the scrappiest five-pointed star known to man. It left much to be desired, but to a kindergartener, it was a masterpiece, one that rivaled the best contemporary artists of today.

"If you don't have a soul mark," Katsuki said as he blew on his wet star, "Then you can have mines."

Izuku inspected the mark with a profound reverence. His eyes lit up like the sun.

"Thank you, Kacchan!" he squealed and tackled his best friend to the ground. "It's perfect, perfect, perfect!"

It was perfect because Katsuki made it specifically for him.

"Get off me!" Katsuki complained as he struggled to bear Izuku's weight. "Now hurry up and play Heroes with me!"

Doing what he told, Izuku remembered his promise to play with his childhood friend this afternoon. Therefore, the two children roamed around the neighborhood, spending the rest of the day fighting make-believe villains and saving damsels in distress. They played without a care in the world.

That night, after Izuku took a bath before he rejoined Katsuki to have a sleepover, he stared at the mark his friend bestowed upon him, half-expecting it to wash off and smudge, but to his delight, it was clear as night and day with a couple of extra stars to accompany it. The ink seemed to glisten as if he doused glitter on it.

Katsuki also bore his first soul mark, a simple bright orange sun above his left wrist, no bigger than a quarter. It was a cute, basic little sun that consisted of a circle with a few lines protruding from it. The way it seemed hand-drawn by crayon was a nice touch.

They both slept soundly, smiles etched into their faces. Their soul marks were the best soul marks they needed, for they were from the person they cared about most.

XXX

Then came the day when Izuku lost his soul mark because it was the same day their relationship soured and deteriorated until it crumbled into dust. Izuku blamed himself for countless days. If only he hadn't reached out his hand, if only he stopped Katsuki from his spiral…

Middle school was the worst years of his life. Puberty was at its highest. Hormones and emotions fluctuated like a deadly roller coaster. Unlike the rest of his class, he was markless, naked. His skin was a bare canvas. Being quirkless and markless was a double whammy, and for that, he was relentlessly bullied or put at the center of attention.

Izuku felt helpless, hopeless. He should have lowered his eyes as Katsuki goaded him, berated him for applying to U.A., but how could he, when Katsuki was bearing his mark?

"You wanna be a hero so bad?" Katsuki mocked him.

Though he intimidated and overshadowed him, Izuku still kept his attention on Katsuki's left wrist, his heart breaking with each word spat against him.

"I've got a time-saving idea for you. If you think you'll have a quirk in your next life…"

What used to be a radiant sun turned out to be a pitiable solar eclipse. The mark was bigger than a quarter, but it was greatly overshadowed by darkness. A small ring of light managed to peek out at the surface but just barely. Izuku flinched as a barrage of explosions erupted from Katsuki's hands, and the boy leaned in close, wearing a nasty, sadistic grin on his face.

"If you think I'll ever fall for you," he whispered, taunting him with the reality that Izuku's affections will never be returned. He knew he struck gold based on the tears pouring from his freckled cheeks, the despair written across his face. "Go take a swan dive off the roof. Maybe then you'll get a quirk and find somebody who can actually love you."

Izuku held his breath. Izuku couldn't breathe.

XXX

"You didn't save me, dammit!" Katsuki screamed from the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and broken from the sludge monster that took him hostage. "You could have gotten yourself killed, you- you fucking nerd!"

Izuku lowered his eyes. Shame crawled up his throat. He knew that. He knew that but… His body moved on its own. He couldn't stand there and watch Katsuki die.

He knew that. He knew it was stupid of him to rush into danger without a premeditated plan. He was already stupid for loving an insufferable guy like Katsuki.

"This is why you piss me off so much!"

Katsuki stomped towards him, the soles of his sneakers slapping against the pavement as he took a handful of his gakuran. He then slammed Izuku to the adjacent wall and kept him there by pressing his weight.

"Push me away!"

"What?" Izuku asked with fear and hesitation laced in his voice.

"Push me away!" Katsuki repeated, his voice turning raspy. "If you can do that, then I'll acknowledge you!"

In seconds, Izuku attempted to shove Katsuki away, just like he was instructed. His arms shook with resilience as he strained to move, but all of his efforts were to no avail. Katsuki wouldn't budge.

Frustration crept up his throat as he grunted and heaved, but Katsuki was still there, standing like a rock.

"You keep yapping on and on about becoming a hero."

Katsuki backed away with venom in his crimson eyes.

"How can you be a hero if you can't even do that, huh?! I'm not even using my quirk!"

Izuku slumped down the wall, defeated. Time and time again Katsuki kept beating him to the ground.

"Kacchan…" Izuku looked away. "I'm sorry." He doesn't know why he was apologizing, but it felt befitting.

His childhood friend clenched his fists. "I trained years for this!" Sparks flew from his hands, leaving them hot and warm. "And yet! You did nothing!" His feelings rushed out of him like a torrent, relentless and endless. "All this time you waited for a miracle to happen! You waited for a chance to be a hero… You waited for a chance to have a soul mark…"

Izuku's head snapped up and met with dark, crimson eyes. His heart lurched and hurt as understanding dawned upon him.

Katsuki hit the final nail in the coffin. "How can you achieve those things if you never tried?"

His breathing was heavy and erratic as if he ran a full marathon, and when he was done with the purpose of this meeting, he turned away and trudged back home. His pants were precariously loose around his hips, and he hunched his back like a delinquent. However, his words were sincere, and he was not one to sprinkle or sugarcoat his criticism.

Izuku released his breath, the foundations of his desires to become a hero shaken to the core, for Katsuki was not wrong. He pointed out the inevitable. All Izuku did was write notes and observed heroes, but he never put those ideas to practice or strengthened his body in preparation for the world of quirks.

He was embarrassed from the truth and sniffled as the helplessness settled in his heart. No wonder Katsuki doesn't love him. How could he love a man who dwelled too long in his dreams, but never showed the progress towards those goals?

Disheartened, Izuku sat there and stared at the gorgeous sunset and the reddish sky. He clenched his fists and wiped away his tears. Frustration bottled within his tiny frame.

He then thought of his dreams, unattainable and worthless. He thought of the heroes who were on standby, whose quirks were incompatible to the sludge monster's quirk and left Katsuki to suffocate to his death. He thought of All Might and his current weakened state, the impairments forcing the #1 hero push past his limits. He thought of Katsuki, the boy he loved despite his faults, the boy would become a hero without him by his side.

It stung, but Izuku had to grow up. He was not giving up, but like Katsuki said, if he ever hoped to achieve his dreams, he needed to go plus ultra and aim for them instead of waiting like a sitting duck.

XXX

"Whoa, Bakugou! I knew you had a soul mark, but not to this extent!"

His classmates ogled the rippling flames that swirled around Katsuki's bicep, bright orange and intense as if real flames consumed his arm. The tail end began at the wrist and crept their way up until the tips touched his shoulder blades. Out of the rest of the students in Class 1-A, Katsuki's soul mark was the most beautiful and vivid, eye-catching and unmistakable. To his friends, they were dying to know which unlucky soul fell in love with such a prickly and loud man, but Katsuki deflected their questions with a threat to their lives and explosions in their faces.

They allowed the burning questions fizzle, but during their hero training sessions, Katsuki wore a tank top and displayed the full size of his soul mark, reigniting their curiosity once more.

"Nothing," Katsuki deflected once more.

However, the flames said otherwise, the way they licked up his muscles and claimed his arm as their own, for whoever felt these strong feelings for Katsuki, they were definitely nothing.

XXX

Aizawa was a busy man, juggling his life as an underground hero and a teacher at one of the most prestigious hero academies was no easy feat. He had more pressing matters to attend to, such as prepping lesson plans for the future generation of heroes.

Therefore, even the smallest setback could tip the scale of his schedule. Yet, there was a student from the Support department waiting in front of his office, his red shoes shuffling against each other nervously with a notepad in hand.

"Do you need something?" he asked the kid, sipping one of his jelly packets meticulously.

Maybe if he made this kid uncomfortable enough, he would be intimidated to go to his correct department and advisor. He doesn't blame the kid for jumping in shock since his stealth skills were legendary when he made his presence known.

"A-Aizawa-sensei!" he stammered and bowed low, so low that he almost bent himself in half. "I-I have a request!"

His ears burned scarlet and his pits built up sweat. Aizawa couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow over this extremely jittery kid.

He went right to the point. "What is your request?" He sucked his packet hard, leaving a long, unnecessary pause. This had better be worthwhile.

Before he fainted from all the blood rushing to his head, the green-haired student rose up with a set of determined eyes and a posture that screamed persistence. "Please allow me permission to visit the training grounds whenever the hero students are in class."

An envelope was hidden at the last page of his notepad, and he took it out to present it to the teacher. "This is for a project I have in mind. I already got clearance from Power Loader, but I needed your signature as well."

He shuffled with a couple more pages before springing up more papers for him to read. "And here are the following documents and recommendations I received to give you more information about my upcoming project. Please take my request into consideration."

Besides their initial encounter, he exuded an air of confidence, quite alike another rowdy problem student in his class, but it was a different brand of confidence, one only a student from the Support department can own.

Summer was around the corner, and for some students, they were at the cusp of failing or passing during exams. He doesn't want to ruin their concentration by bringing in a new factor. He flipped through the documents as if they were a picture book, his tired eyes skimming through the contents, becoming more and more invested as he perused carefully.

He glimpsed at the kid again. Usually the Hero department sent their students to the Support department – not the other way around. And yet, here was this kid, hoping to foster a relationship with his clients early on by observing their training regime to gain a more profound understanding to create custom-made enhancements. It made sense. It was rational. After all, they were the future heroes of this generation, and with his bold project to manufacture a quirk kit for heroes to bolster their efforts to save people, he needed to see rescuing in action.

"I'll give you a temporary card to give you access to our facilities," he said with finality, pulling out a pen from his pocket and writing in his signature on the forms. "On one condition," he added before the kid leapt into celebration. "A teacher must accompany you in every visit."

"Thank you for this opportunity, Aizawa-sensei!"

Izuku was brimming with excitement, slowly coming out of his overly formal shell as he rambled on and on about the modifications he had in store for his students.

"Tell me, Midoriya," Aizawa said before the kid bolted down the hallway to get the papers processed. "Why are you in the Support department?"

The kid showed a lack of experience in his history forms, a gap in the amount of skill compared to the other support students that came across his path. He guessed this was partially the reason why the kid was desperate for this opportunity.

"To be a hero who saves heroes, sensei."

"I see…"

Since he was done with this errand, Aizawa moved on, unaware of the winds of change. A hero who would save heroes, huh? What an unreasonable response.

XXX

"Deku!" Katsuki propelled forward, blasting past his classmates to reach to his childhood friend's face.

Irritation furrowed his brows. The soles of his shoes skidded across the asphalt as he made his landing, eventually reaching into a halt and stomped towards Izuku, heat still radiating from palms.

"What are you doing here, nerd?!" he interrogated him.

Without question, he grabbed Izuku's collar and lifted him off the ground, flexing off his strength, but Izuku, without an ounce of fear, plugged his ears and grimaced when some spit went on his cheeks.

He wiped them off with his sleeve.

He frowned. "Say it, don't spray it, Kacchan."

Katsuki was livid, his veins bulging out to pop, and he was ready to fry this cheeky bastard until he was restrained by some sort of cloth wrapping around his neck and chest, restricting him from holding Izuku any longer.

"Let the kid go, Bakugou," Aizawa sighed. "He has permission to observe and take his own measurements. Don't scare him off, or I'll add more laps."

"But!"

Katsuki then bit his tongue at his teacher's imposing gaze, for he was powerless under such authority. Since he didn't let out another peep, Aizawa formally introduced Izuku to the rest of Class 1-A, who were quite enamored with the boy who was able to interject back to their resident manifestation of an explosion without batting an eye. Understanding the circumstances, they agreed and circled around Izuku, animatedly asking him questions and shooting back answers in return. The icebreaker earlier helped them accept Izuku instantly, and Katsuki trailed behind them, grinding his teeth with frustration.

Izuku read his mood, handing him a slight apologetic look for not warning him, but then again, they were distant over the past months, with Katsuki aiming to be the top hero and Izuku switching his life goal to become a hero support technician.

What grated Katsuki now was the crowd, enchanted by Izuku's infectious smiles and good-natured personality. What also caught his attention were the telltale signs of soul marks on his skin, some as big as an insignificant tapioca pearl. He stalked off, stretching his limbs off to the side to get his thoughts off of Izuku. He doesn't like how the nerd was thrusted back into his life, more lively and happier than ever. Good for him. He doesn't care.

He was not curious about Izuku's decision to be in the Support department.

XXX

It was unfair that Izuku got hot over the span of their first year. It was unfair how well he adapted and integrated into the Class 1-A dynamics. It was especially unfair how much Katsuki's eyes drifted over to Izuku's because he was always in his sight, no longer following his trail like a stalker but tracing his movements like a professional.

He tampered his feelings until they were virtually impossible but watching Izuku try so hard and giving it his best, there was something admirable about the nerd after all.

XXX

When Izuku showered and inspected his body, checking for burns and injuries he accidentally accumulated while experimenting with Mei, he noticed a stark change. The tiny heart he found a month ago, the one he was certain would disappear once his admirers understood he was set in his goals and another who cannot name, transformed from something punitive, no bigger than a fingernail, into an enlarged geometric anatomical heart that took up his left pectoral.

Izuku was breathless. He knew the mark grew as he washed himself, but now that the realization settled in, he felt himself turn pink as his fingers traced around the crisp lines and melted over the clear-cut design. To think that someone loved him this much, monopolizing his chest as if it was protecting his heart.

"I wonder who it could be…" Izuku wondered aloud and felt saddened for the person.

After all, no matter how big the soul mark was, no matter how much this person catered to his needs, he was in love in Katsuki first. He fell hard, so hard that his heart was groveling in the dirt, filled with thoughts of Katsuki until there was no space left for another soul.

XXX

Over their high school career, Izuku was a constant for Class 1-A, always taking notes and shooting off inquiries about the limits of their quirks until the class were more than necessarily intimate with those details. At least they were better quirk users thanks to the one-on-one sessions. Though his interactions with Katsuki were rocky from the start, time smoothed over those rough edges. Those edges can still scrape, still hurt each other if approached too quickly, but Izuku and Katsuki were able to hold a respectful conversation together. For that, they grew.

"Let's try out titanium for the grenade braces," Izuku supplied as he added the note to his diagram. He listlessly chewed his pen, brainstorming other modifications he can do.

He doesn't know what pushed Katsuki to make a trip to his lab for a redesign, but he'll treasure and savor every minute, getting rid of the bulky size of his grenade braces foremost. Sure, they were aesthetic, but god, they were every support technician's nightmare. If he found the idiot who created those and gave their approval, he would strangle them for its inefficiency. The size was a drag, and the weight was asking to cause some chronic issues.

Not that he was doubtful of Katsuki's finesse and strength, but he shouldn't waste his energy for an easily solvable problem. Titanium had a higher melting point and was lighter, so obviously Izuku set his sights on using the metal as a possible solution. This would be miles better than that trash heap Katsuki owned. All he needed was to make a titanium alloy that would fit Katsuki's qualifications, which he bet he could make with his eyes closed.

If it wasn't for the unaddressed elephant in the room, Izuku would have said they worked in comfortable silence. However, his soul mark was still on Katsuki's arm as if it was its territory, and perhaps Izuku took some pride in that. His feelings may not be reciprocated, but at least his feelings were bigger than everybody else's who were somehow charmed by Katsuki's fake bad boy persona. Perhaps they hoped to tame Katsuki, to reel him in and change him to be a kinder, sweeter man. Yet, Izuku was not looking for that. He only hoped to be by Katsuki's side, but nowadays, his crush seemed out of reach and two steps ahead of him.

Grade-wise, he was a stellar student who understood the mechanisms and concepts of the lecture material. His notebooks specifically for his classes spoke volumes. Besides that, he was a disaster in the lab and once made Mei kick him out for almost killing himself with one of her babies. He apologized profusely and was invited back after promising to be her experiment dummies for an entire month.

Much of his inventions and blueprints were rejected for their plain and tacky design. Sure, they were practical, but they lacked the pizazz needed to attract interest from sponsors and other students. To Power Loader's dismay, most of his inventions were a basic solid color scheme with a label spray-painted on them. If there were a pair of robotic wings to levitate the wearer, Midoriya Izuku would not hesitate to color them pure white and mark the invention as "Wings 1.0" with a Sharpie. Yes, his style was horrific indeed and very much inferior to Mei's steampunk style.

Therefore, he was stuck in a rut with lots of time in his hands since he doesn't have commissions pouring in like his other upperclassmen. On the bright side, he was free enough to pay attention to Katsuki's request as if he worshipped his quirk and revered it with the upmost respect.

"Oi, Deku you in there?" Katsuki waved, his hand erratically moving up and down to catch his attention.

Izuku blinked out of his stupor, realizing how he must have stared at the soul mark for far too long.

"Sorry." He turned away. "Was thinking about alternative metals for the bracers," he lied through his teeth.

Katsuki mellowed out ever since their middle school years. The exposure to powerful quirk users such as Yaoyorozu and Todoroki knocked him down a few pegs, but he was still vicious, still ambitious. The only difference was the maturity he displayed, and as much as Izuku told himself, he felt bitter to not be a part of his growth because he was a side character, a person not within his radar.

Katsuki must have been stuck in his thoughts as well to accept Izuku's lie. He seemed fixated on his arm.

"When did you get those scars?" He pointed at the glaring gash that spanned from the tip of his shoulder to the end of his elbow.

There was a period when the nerd disappeared from the training grounds for a couple of weeks, but Katsuki shrugged it off as studying for exams and building more insane inventions.

"An accident," Izuku laughed off the injury.

Katsuki doesn't see the humor in his statement, especially when it looked gruesome and painful.

"I was careless." Izuku rocked on the balls of his feet, walking down memory lane.

He caressed the scar gently, as if the searing pain would return with a vengeance while he recalled the event.

"I was in charge of handling the pressure to test the durability on Uraraka-san's helmet."

Frantic to bear more responsibility, he added too much pressure until the synthetic glass shattered and slashed against his arm. He foolishly ignored some protective measures to add last minute adjustments, and that flub cost him his arm.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to tell Katsuki this. What kind of support engineer is he, revealing his failure to a potential client? Then again, this was Katsuki, the person he loved with all his heart and soul, the person he couldn't hide from. Lying to him was never an option.

Izuku caught the way Katsuki's shoulders bunched up when he heard the truth, the slight bob of his Adam's apple that demonstrated how much he reigned in his anger. Dammit. He was going to hate himself for doing this.

"I understand if you have reservations for requesting a costume upgrade from me." Can someone please stop him? He was committing business suicide. "If you prefer a more qualified student," he said as he dug a deeper hole for his grave, wishing it could swallow him whole, "I can recommend you to a couple of people and transfer my current papers, so-"

"What?" Katsuki cut in. "So that's it? You're just gonna give up?"

If Katsuki was simmering to a boil earlier, he was boiling now, bubbling violently and radiating pure heat. His facial expression contorted into contempt, ruining the smooth planes on his cheeks and forehead. Wrinkles inhabited his chin, which gave him such an ugly mug that Izuku was tempted rub them away with his thumb. However, nothing compared to the look of hurt shot in his direction, and Izuku, who took the full brunt of it, was left speechless.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?! You gave up being a hero, and now you're throwing this goal away?!"

Izuku winced because even though he accepted his fate as a quirkless human, the wounds were still healing. They were scabbed, and like all scabs, it was best to not pick at them.

"What's your excuse now, hah?!"

Katsuki pushed Izuku away, as if he couldn't bear being in his proximity. Taken aback by the gesture, Izuku clumsily stumbled backwards.

"How many times," Katsuki asked him.

He looked wretched as he clenched the arm that bore Izuku's soul mark, the one that plagued and infested his arm until there was no room left for anybody else.

"How many times are you gonna disappoint me until you're satisfied, you damn nerd?!"

The dam broke.

Izuku's ears were clean. He stood at most three feet away from the hero-in-training. Yet, he had trouble processing what he heard.

"What?"

"Fine, keep running away, you stupid Deku. I give up."

He swallowed his spit and the letdown on his tongue.

Katsuki was on the verge of crashing through the wall and threaten reparation costs to escape this suffocating hellhole because talking with Izuku was never easy. It left him sticky and sweaty and itchy. It left him grumpy and disgusted and irate.

"Wait. Kacchan!"

Izuku dashed towards the exit, skidded across the floor to reach it, and blocked Katsuki's way. His spindly arms were spread flat against the door, and he held himself firm.

"Please," his lip wobbled. "Don't you dare say that."

The blond tilted his chin up. "Say what?"

"To give up on me."

"And why shouldn't I?" Katsuki challenged him.

Katsuki was a fool for laying down the seeds of hope when Izuku confessed to him that he would bury his dreams of becoming a hero and nourish his dreams of being the best support engineer the world would ever see.

"You were right," Izuku began. "After all, you would never ask from failures. This is the last time I run away. Especially," he paused, "Especially from you."

Izuku wiped away the burgeoning tears at the corners of his eyes. "I will face you, Kacchan, with my head held high," he said.

"Please," he clenched his eyes, arms solidly pressed against his sides. "Please give me this chance to prove it."

The seconds ticked by, and Izuku was afraid for the rejection to come. He should have realized his cowardice sooner.

If Katsuki said no, then this would have been his biggest regret for the rest of his life.

The USJ incident was a nightmare, and his concerns seeped into his dreams, causing him to wake up in the middle of the night in the midst of wrestling his sheets. He doesn't want to relive the moment of ice-cold fear injected into his veins when he heard the news of Class 1-A's close encounter with the League of Villains. He doesn't want to feel helpless again, unable to provide Katsuki and his peers assistance when they needed it most. Even though the students survived unscathed, skill and luck doesn't provide second chances for free.

This was an opportunity to save. This was an opportunity for him to achieve his dreams.

A warm, calloused hand ruffled his hair, and Izuku unclenched his eyes, peeking out from his bangs to see what Katsuki was going to do next.

"Prove it then, Deku," Katsuki combed back his bangs and laid his forehead against his. His stark crimson eyes sparked, holding him captive. "Show me what U.A's future greatest support engineer can do."

Izuku vibrated with excitement. His heart soared.

Before Katsuki slipped his hand away, Izuku held it there in place with a smile that wouldn't falter. He had Katsuki's blessings, and he was going to create a support item that would bolster his hero work. He was going to be a support engineer who would save other heroes whenever they were in a tight pinch.

"I will," he confirmed, "Because this is an order for someone who is going to be Japan's greatest hero."

XXX

Izuku said that, but here they were, a month later in his lab, and Katsuki's disapproving sneer.

"It's ugly," he passed on his verdict. "My parents would have a heart attack if they saw this."

He was being lenient. Most likely they would faint, come back to their senses, and then rip Izuku's design notebook into shreds.

Izuku let out an insulted gasp and clutched his chest. "Kacchan!" He swatted his arm for his insensitive comment. "I worked all night to complete this. Don't be rude."

Indeed, the dark bags beneath his eyes indicated his late-night sprees, working relentlessly to finish upcoming commissions and last-minute fixes. A better indicator was the army of coffee mugs littering his workspace, all unsurprisingly empty.

"Yeah, Bakugou," Kirishima defended him as he slipped on his modified cut-resistant sleeves. "Cut him some slack. Besides, they're not for you," he added with a toothy grin.

He activated his quirk and his skin toughened into rock, the hard lines and ridges confined within the sleeve. His sleeves were black like the original with gaudy mint green letters that spelled out "Sleeves" pasted along the forearm. Katsuki's friend went into action, using his brute strength to destroy a couple of practice dummies Izuku prepared for the test run to check the material's endurance.

Kirishima was having a blast.

"Thanks, Midoriya!" he said when he completed the run and hurried over to pick up his stocky frame with a crushing hug.

"No problem. It was my pleasure," Izuku managed to wheeze out.

Ever since Katsuki's new and improved bracers garnered attention for their sleek, simplistic style, Izuku was a hot commodity. Nowadays, whenever the nerd was not out near the hero training grounds to accumulate more research, he would be cooped up in his lab, tinkering with his gadgets and gizmos. The recognition was still a far cry from the prestige and fame Mei and his upperclassmen earned during the Sports Festival and the Support Expo, but he was climbing the ranks to make a name for himself.

"Let go of him, Shitty Hair," a fist bopped Kirishima's hard head. "I still need him to prep my grenade launchers."

Upon his release, Izuku teased, "Even with my ugly trademark plastered on them?"

"Yes," Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Even though I requested for them to be removed."

"Request denied," Izuku replied, his tongue sticking out impishly. "You know I had to stake my claim somewhere."

"What a bunch of-"

"Whoa, Midoriya, what's that?"

The two stopped their bickering to see Kirishima, who was in the midst of peeling off his sleeves, to his finger pointing at Izuku's arm. The redhead gawked at the galaxies pooling over Izuku's scars, the way they swirled and decorated them like a painting.

"Oh, this?" Izuku latched onto his arm and side-eyed Katsuki to see his reaction. He only received the cold shoulder. Dejected, Izuku said, "I had a soul mark on my chest, but over the past couple weeks, I guess it evolved into this."

He doesn't understand its meaning, the implications it held for a monochrome, straightforward mark to transform into this beautiful abstract of explosive colors. He protectively grazed his knuckles over the worst of his wounds.

"The scars were pretty ugly, so it's nice." He let out a small smile. "I don't exactly know what this mark is telling me, but I like to believe that whoever likes me, they don't think it's hideous at all."

"Dude, that's so romantic and manly." Kirishima bore a mark of his own, a pink tourmaline gem nestled within the dip between his neck and collarbones. The stone suited him for its meaning. The love of humanity and the need to protect others, especially the ones racked with fear, fitted Red Riot's brand.

"Have any idea who has the hots for you?" he nudged with his elbow.

Katsuki still seemed disinterested in this talk.

Izuku sadly stared at his soul mark and pitied for the sorry soul who continued to love him even though it was a lost cause. Though he doesn't have a name or an inkling of this mysterious admirer, he can at least relate to them. Unrequited love was an agonizing love to bear, the type where Katsuki would never see him as nothing more than a simple geeky engineer with a knack for inventing and quirks. It was a type of love that must be kept silent to preserve the frayed peace they have.

"No," he replied and wore a pinched smile. "But it doesn't matter now."

"Eh? Why not?" Kirishima frowned. "You still have time to find them."

A sick sense of self-satisfaction bloomed in Izuku's chest when he saw the stunned look on Katsuki's face.

"You see," he said, "I was offered an internship to I-Island."

XXX

The bottom of the barrel would not amount to what Katsuki felt at this very moment. Freshly rescued by the top heroes and All Might, Katsuki wondered why nobody blamed him for being weak, for being such a deadweight when so much was on the line.

The flames on his arms disappeared little by little, and Katsuki detested himself for feeling despair, for wishing Izuku to love him when he doesn't deserve that love, not even for a million years. Dragging Izuku to Ground Beta was a mistake. It was wrong to take advantage of Izuku's visit to demand a fight, especially when he was practically the same status of a civilian.

He doesn't know why. He should have asked Shitty Hair or Pikachu or even Soy Sauce Face. Seeking punishment was wrong, and yet here he was, fighting Izuku no holds barred.

At least the nerd learned some tips from Uraraka during her internship with Gunhead.

He slammed his childhood friend to the ground, and the sight of his own naked arm holding against Izuku's neck left a coppery taste to his mouth, unless that was indeed real blood in his mouth. Izuku left a smart right hook not too long ago.

"Dammit!" Katsuki cried out. "Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Tears trailed down his cheeks, and he removed his hands from Izuku to cover his face, to hide the shame and vulnerability that smudged his perfection. The frustration. The helplessness. The fear. It was all his fault. He broke their symbol of peace. He broke what he had with Izuku.

Victory never felt so undeserving.

A shift underneath him showed Izuku looking downright miserable as well.

"Kacchan," he said and held him, kept him close as the cool breeze dried their sweat. "I'm sorry," he blubbered. "My fault… If only…"

They were two miserable people who felt like they failed and found solace together that way. Where Katsuki felt like a burden who caused All Might's downfall, Izuku felt like an invalid who should have provided more help, more support to the heroes who went to save Katsuki.

If only he left him an item to protect himself. If only he produced something better than a tracker and an accelerator that helped him escape.

Aizawa eventually found them together, burdened by the weight of this incident until they collapsed with tear streaks and snot. They were in trouble for sure, their ears ringing from the scolding of their teachers, but they were punished lightly. After all, they were teenagers learning how to cope with the rapid changes of their hero society, haphazardly thrown to watch it all unfold with a front row seat. Katsuki zoned out in the shower, for his legs felt like lead and his head felt like cotton. Despite what transpired at Ground Beta, nothing changed; there was no progress.

Katsuki pounded against the stall. The loss was incriminating. He cried again in the shower when he realized the flames on his arm were no longer visible, no longer a bane of his existence.

It would be a couple days later in the locker room when Kaminari would compliment the soul mark on his back. There was a pretty red bird, the same color of the flames that used to be on his arm, ready to take flight.

XXX

For an average, quirkless nerd, he was quite incredible in some aspects. On the day of his departure, the students of Class 1-A and some Class 1-B students he befriended were wishing him a tearful goodbye. With All Might's outstanding recommendation, Izuku was going to heights he never explored and got accepted to work under David Shield's wing. Everything was wrapping up fine.

Katsuki loomed over his squad, sulking at the corner as he waited his turn to talk to Izuku. There were loose ends needed to be tied up. There were unspoken words that needed to be uttered.

"Kacchan."

Izuku was in front of him in the flesh wearing an oversized All Might shirt with a pair of denim jeans and his famous pair of red high tops. For a shirt that was two sizes too large for him, Katsuki saw his soul mark, blooming wonderfully on his arm.

The mark looked like a tear revealing a wonderful universe of stars and supernova, encapsulating Izuku from his unique imagination to the beauty of his soul. Blues, purples, and greens spilled over his bicep and bled down his elbow. It looked surreal to touch, and Katsuki was the soul who reached out to grasp what was his.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me, Kacchan," Izuku told him softly. His name was spoken in a caress. "Don't forget me, yeah?"

Katsuki grinded his teeth, infuriated by what he lacked. Izuku was a Deku in many aspects, but in moments when the heart mattered most, Katsuki struggled and fell short.

Deku.

Always forgiving.

Always loving.

He doesn't know to what extent, but Izuku was always the better man. Katsuki doesn't deserve Izuku, but Izuku deserved more than this shallow friendship.

"Even if I hurt you in the past?" Katsuki asked with shame coloring his cheeks. "I know it's too late to say it, but…"

He swallowed the pill and took the dive. Whether through rain or hail or storm, Katsuki persisted because Izuku deserved this. He deserved a proper apology.

"I'm sorry," he said, "For being an ass. For all the crap I threw at you."

The block of guilt that resided in his lungs for so long was beginning to chip, finally letting him breathe new life. This was his resolve.

"This," he indicated the soul mark, afraid of the resolution but curious to know the end, "This is mine. It was always mine."

Maybe it was a keen or a squawk came out of Izuku's mouth. Katsuki doesn't know, but a short snort passed his lips when Izuku continued to gape at him as if he confessed, which was what literally happened. A couple giggles to his left shook him out of stupor, reminding him they had an audience, but even with a bunch of eyes observing their every move, Izuku refused to wither and let the curl of embarrassment stop him.

For so long he ran away. For so long he buried his feelings. Well, no more, for Izuku was a changed man with stronger dreams and a stronger will. Last time he told Katsuki he was done running away, and he meant it. He meant it now, here at this airport where Katsuki laid his feelings bare, here on the day right when Izuku had to depart to I-Island.

He bemoaned over their timing. Why were they like this?

With newfound courage, Izuku gripped Katsuki tight and poured in his feelings through touch. Without fear or the repercussions of his actions, Izuku embraced Katsuki, pressed his head against his broad chest and giddily counted the heartbeats near his ear. Even if Katsuki wanted to escape, he was too late. He was his.

"Yours," Izuku said and lifted his head until their faces were centimeters apart. "I was always yours."

In turn, Katsuki belonged to him. They belonged to each other.

On his tiptoes, Izuku reached up and melded their lips together, savoring their first kiss with a want and desire that burned his insides. There were tentative licks, unsure pecks of whether Katsuki wanted to continue, but those insecurities were dashed as Katsuki reciprocated with same amount of passion and fervor, kissing him back with tongue and clacked teeth. Katsuki shuddered as Izuku pulled against his bottom lip and held his lapels for purchase, following his stride until they reached a wall. Katsuki kissed along Izuku's jawline, peppering them with marks besides the ones he ingrained with his soul. He relished in the noises, the breathy quiet moans. They would have committed a full day mapping out their mouths, learning what made them keen and what made them hiss in pleasure, but alas, they were not given a day. They barely had five minutes left.

The feeling of the hot air that mingled between them helped sober them up from the rush and high of love. Five minutes can pass in the blink of an eye.

"I'm not waiting for you," Katsuki said steadfast. " Because I'm going to be the greatest hero in Japan."

His confidence was exhilarating, and Izuku leaned in for another kiss, one that was slower and languid, because damn, he was so attractive.

"Meet you at the top, Kacchan," Izuku breathed into his lips. He leaned close and whispered to his ear, not without leaving a quick nip to the lobe, "Don't keep me waiting."

He doesn't mention about the slight stutter in Katsuki's breath, for it was their first secret as boyfriends. With a yearning glance, he made his way to fulfill his dreams.

XXX

Epilogue

Sunlight filtered through the windows, and Izuku's ruffled hair popped out from the edge of the sheets. The alarm broke the serene silence of their room, and he whined as the covers were stolen from him.

"Rise and shine," Katsuki sang.

Izuku groaned again, more for the power Katsuki's morning voice had on him. It kept him fluttery and light, reminding him of how well Katsuki sang for him due to last night's ministrations.

"Hurry up, you lazy bastard."

Ah, there was the man he knew and loved. Izuku peeked from his bangs and got a full view of Katsuki's undressed front.

"Good morning to you, too," he mumbled into his arm, probably salivating like a hungry pup.

"Oi," Katsuki snapped. "Eyes up here. Hurry up and get ready. You have a presentation in an hour."

At the mention of his scheduled introduction to his project, Izuku rolled off the bed with a thud and picked himself up. Katsuki chuckled at the hapless sight and picked up their discarded clothes to the laundry basket. A bright red phoenix covered the expanse of his back, its wings surpassing his shoulder blades with ease. It was a marvelous sight, one that gave the message of revival and renewal, of never letting the internal flame die.

After minutes of fumbling around in the bathroom and closet, Izuku appeared in a dapper suit and a million-watt smile.

"Do I look fine?" he messed with his tie.

Today he was going to unveil the Deku aid kit, which was considered a jack of all trades kit that held an assortment of popular support items for hero teams. Whenever they were at a disadvantage against a villain, instead of waiting out and allowing the villain to run amuck, they could at least perform damage control with this temporary aid. Though it was not permanent, they were Izuku's first steps, and with the data he collected over the years, he can create customized kits for specific individuals as well.

"Very fine," Katsuki approved and fixed his tie. "So fine, I wouldn't mind another round."

That perked Izuku up. "Really?"

Katsuki smiled, not caring how he was obviously playing the role of a lovestruck fool. His soul mark upon Izuku hadn't changed over the years besides the magnitude, which ended up alike a tattoo sleeve. There was a hint of pastel colors included in those galaxies and stars, and perhaps their presence was due to the ring hidden in his inner suit pocket.

"Yeah," he said and dipped Izuku to kiss him silly. "I would."


End file.
